


a soul burning with love

by philindas



Series: thicker than blood [2]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-27
Updated: 2016-08-27
Packaged: 2018-08-11 06:58:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7881019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/philindas/pseuds/philindas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Grace has a question for her grandmother. It's Jemma's response to her answer that's the surprise.</p>
            </blockquote>





	a soul burning with love

**Author's Note:**

  * For [shafferthefirst](https://archiveofourown.org/users/shafferthefirst/gifts).



> Shay asked for grandmay and I was thinking about this idea earlier and this happened. Also, this verse is now a series! Title of this fic is from a quote.

One of the few things Melinda May loved most in the world were the afternoons she spent with Grace Fitzsimmons.

Phil was off with Daisy and Sophia- something about a new historical museum he’d mentioned a few weeks prior. Jemma had asked her to watch Grace while she and Fitz attended to something in the lab, and she’d been more than happy to watch the almost four year old.

The little blonde was just like her mother- prim, proper, and with the sweetest smile in the world. She had all her parents’ wit with a hint of Phil’s humor, and the instant Melinda had walked into Fitz and Simmons’ apartments, Grace had pulled her to the kitchen counter to color pictures with her.

“Grandma?” Melinda looked up at Grace’s voice from where she’d been carefully shading in the leaves of a tree to look at the tiny blonde. Her lips were twisted in a thoughtful frown as she tapped her yellow crayon against her mouth, a few tendrils of hair escaping her pigtails and frizzing around her temples.

“Yes Gracie?” Melinda asked, setting her crayon down to give the little girl her full attention.

“Why doesn’t Mommy look like you?” Grace asked, and Melinda’s eyes widened, lips parting. “I mean, you’re her mommy, aren’t you? That’s why you’re my grandma? Aunt Daisy looks like you, and Sophia looks like you, but Mommy doesn’t.”

Melinda paused, swallowing as she collected her thoughts before she answered.

“I’m not your mommy’s real mom,” she started quietly. “Your mommy and your daddy are from far away, and they moved here to work for SHIELD, and that’s where their parents are. You met them a long time ago when you were very small, and they love you very much.”

Grace frowns, confused, so Melinda clarifies more.

“Your grandpa and I love your mommy and daddy very much, just like we love your Aunt Daisy, but they aren’t really our kids, like Sophia is,” she continues, and Grace lights up.

“You had Sophia when I was 2!” she exclaims, proudly holding up two fingers, and Melinda smiles, nodding as she stroked the little girl’s cheek. “But Grandma, Daisy calls you Mom.”

“Your aunt decided a long time ago that that was what she wanted,” Melinda answered, face softening at the memory. “She chose your grandpa and I to be her parents.”

“Is that what my mommy and daddy did?” Grace asked, and Melinda shrugged, tucking a few loose strands of hair behind the little girl’s ear.

“I think your grandpa and I are more of a stand in for when you and your mommy and daddy are on base with us,” she replies after a moment, thinking. “So you’re just lucky enough to have three grandmas and two grandpas that love you a whole lot. Aren’t you special?”

Grace beamed, leaning over to hug Melinda tightly, and she held the little girl close to her, sighing softly. She looked up at the sound of footsteps against the floor, finding Jemma watching them with soft eyes.

“You’re certainly not a stand in, May,” she replies, stroking over her daughter’s hair as Grace leaned into her, face buried in her shirt. “You let me _actually_ break part of your hand while giving birth, you stayed up the entire night with me when Gracie refused to eat that first week, and you would drop anything in a second if I needed you to watch Grace. That sounds an awful lot like a mother if you ask me. I think there’s room in my life for two of them.”

“Jemma,” Melinda starts, but the scientist just smiles, coming over to hug the older woman tightly, surprising her.

“Fitz feels the same. We wouldn’t have insisted on Grace calling you and Coulson grandma and grandpa if we hadn’t meant it. You’re our family as much as our blood is,” she murmurs softly as Grace returns to her coloring, content with the answer to her questions. “We rather love you, you know.”

Melinda doesn’t answer, just hugs the Brit a little tighter.


End file.
